


Recollection and Regret

by Mx_Poogie



Series: Inquisitor Felix Fraldarius [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (mild), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Injury, M/M, Mentioned Glenn Fraldarius, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Past Sylvain Jose Gautier/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29312946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mx_Poogie/pseuds/Mx_Poogie
Summary: Uninvited guests turn up at Skyhold and Felix wants to tear someone's head off.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Male Inquisitor/Iron Bull
Series: Inquisitor Felix Fraldarius [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120718
Kudos: 3





	Recollection and Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a side note, none of the FE3H-characters are quite as they are in their own game - they're older, for example, and I've bent their backstory and its timeline just a bit, so keep that in mind!
> 
> This is probably readable even if you know nothing about Fire Emblem; just think Felix = male Trevelyan, and you should be good to go. Any relevant background information should come up with time.

The day begins before sunrise with a nightmare that leaves Felix shaking and breathless and exhausted. It’s the worst one he’s had in a while. He should have known it was a bad omen and stayed in bed, he decides, when, a couple of hours later while Felix is in the middle of doing his morning drills in the training yard, first light of day barely touching the rooftops of Skyhold, a guard informs him of an approaching troop of men - riding under the banner of Fraldarius. For a few moments, Felix merely stares at the man, aware that his mouth is halfway open but unable to close it.

”You’re certain?” he asks once he manages to shake himself back in motion. His tone is sharper than he intends, but Void take him, he does not want to see anyone who might ride under his family’s banner; there is only one man who can be leading such a troop. His stomach twists.

”Yessir, scout Harding confirmed it.”

”How far out?”

”They’re expected to arrive after midday, Ser.”

Felix curses. Sighs heavily. ”Thank you. You may return to your post.”

”Ser.” The guard nods sharply and turns away.

Felix takes a moment to just breathe deeply and to try and unclench his jaw. He can do this. He knows what Rodrigue is like, and Maker knows that in his time as the Inquisitor he has had to deal with many people more unpleasant than his father.

Just none as expert at driving him up the wall.

He allows himself to finish the drills before he makes his way to commander Cullen’s office, who Felix knows is almost always up at the first light of dawn. This morning the man looks just about as well rested as Felix feels, but lifts his eyes from his paperwork the instant Felix steps inside.

”Inquisitor!” He goes for a tired smile, which ends up being more of a twitch of lips than anything else. ”How can I help you?”

Felix wastes no time. Under the best of circumstances he’s considered blunt by many, and these circumstances are, as far as Felix is concerned, far from the best. ”Commander. Did my father not send any forewarning of his arrival?”

Cullen blinks at him, confused for a moment. ”Your father…? Ah, indeed.” He frowns slightly. ”To my knowledge, we have received no messages from him, no. We only know of the riders thanks to our scouts. Did you…?”

Felix squeezes the hilt of his sword. A self-soothing habit; a tell, the Iron Bull would say. He wishes he could get rid of it. ”No. Typical.” He scoffs. ”The old fool probably knew I wouldn’t want him here.”

”Ah. Strained family situation, I take it?” His grimace is compassionate. Felix nods reluctantly. ”You could say that.”

”I, er, I’m sure he only wishes to be helpful,” the Commander offers.

”No doubt,” Felix mutters darkly.

He needs to warn Josephine.

Everyone is gathered gathered by the main gate - Cullen, Cassandra and Josephine, accompanied by a few of Cullen’s Lieutenants. The Iron Bull, Varric, Dorian and a few others are standing close by as well, as are any curious inhabitants of the keep. Since they have received no forewarning, no one will be standing to full ceremony, which Felix is relieved by. It means that he can climb atop the battlements and look out towards the approaching men.

Felix can see the familiar banner flying over the riders, and even from afar he gets confirmation that yes, the man at the front is indeed lord Rodrigue Fraldarius himself - there is no mistaking his posture and shining chest plate. It makes Felix grit his teeth, but he isn’t truly on edge until they are close enough for him to recognize who it is riding right behind his father.

The blond hair is pulled up in a short ponytail, the black eyepatch is a stark contrast to his pale skin. His eye finds Felix’s from afar, recognition clear in the way his back straightens and head tilts suddenly, and Felix almost flinches. Frustrated with his inability to keep himself in check, he decides to join the others down below.

The Iron Bull’s gaze follows him closely. ”All good?” he asks quietly when Felix passes by him.

Felix shakes his head tersely. ”I didn’t expect my father to include wild animals with his party,” he mutters. Bull raises an eyebrow but refrains from commenting further.

He’s proving to be adept at reading Felix.

Official greetings and pleasantries are exchanged between the Fraldarius troops and the small welcoming committee. Cullen seems pleased with the arrivals, even if it is merely a few dozen men. Josephine is both charmed and charming, which clearly pleases Rodrigue. And Dimitri…

For the sake of his friends and the soldiers, Felix tries to look as relaxed as he ever does, but in reality seeing Dimitri makes his skin crawl. The man may seem put together and calm on surface like most of the time, but Felix can tell that he still hasn’t gotten over his obsession. His eye darts around, searching for the mages he must know are in the Inquisition’s ranks, and there is a tenseness to his shoulders and a tightness to his face that wouldn’t be there, were he truly back to his old self.

_Ugh._

Their eyes meet again, and this time Dimitri must see the frown on Felix’s face. He returns it with a placating, almost regretful smile, which makes Felix’s blood boil. He wants to bare his teeth and growl. What does Dimitri think has changed between them since they last saw each other?

Felix would like to strangle Rodrigue for this.

Not for the first time Felix finds himself glad that there are so many things that require his personal attention, and even more things where, while not required, it is welcomed nonetheless. Over the past months, the workload has been a great distraction from everything he desperately doesn’t want to think about. This time it is a good reason to promptly excuse himself from the new company as soon as lunch has been served and obligatory platitudes exchanged. 

Felix manages to keep busy and avoid both his father and Dimitri almost until nightfall. It is just getting dark when he makes his way out of Cullen’s office after listening to the newest reports from the Western Approach, his head swimming with new information, tentative plans already beginning to take form, and so he nearly walks into Rodrigue, who reaches out to keep Felix from losing his balance. Felix immediately dodges away from under his touch.

”Felix! I was hoping to have a proper discussion with you, but I was told you were busy.” Rodrigue frowns. ”You seem preoccupied - is everything alright?”

Felix sighs and braces himself. ”Nothing to concern yourself with. What is it?”

”Come, now, Felix.” His fathers eyes are disappointed. Resigned. ”I haven’t seen you in months, and you’ve hardly said a word to me today. Is there not a more, ah, suitable place to have this conversation than on the battlements?”

”Here’s perfectly fine.” Felix tries not to audibly grind his teeth. Rodrigue gives him a familiar pointed look that means _for the love of Andraste, stop being so difficult._

”I was thinking somewhere more private.”

”You can use my office if you’d prefer, Inquisitor. Lord Fraldarius.”

Felix almost jumps out of his skin - Cullen has appeared behind him. The man moves way too quietly, considering the sheer amount of metal he’s wearing. ”It’s right there, after all. I need a breath of fresh air - it has been a long day,” he says, grimacing in a way that betrays a headache to anyone who knows him well enough. Felix frowns.

”Thank you, Commander,” Rodrigue says with a nod before Felix has a chance to say anything. ”Felix?”

”Fine,” he growls.

Once inside, neither one of them sits down. Instead, they stand as far away from each other as the limited space in the office allows, Felix with his arms crossed, Rodrigue resting his hands on the back of Cullen’s chair.

”So?”

Rodrigue sighs. ”How have you been, Felix? The Inquisition is… a very impressive operation. It must have taken a lot of work to put all of this together. And to find a fort such as this…” He shakes his head. ”It’s remarkable. A miracle!”

Felix rolls his eyes. ”It’s hardly my doing. I’m a convenient coincidence.”

”Come, now, surely all this would have been impossible without your involvement! No need to sell yourself short.”

”I’m really not.”

His father closes his eyes for a moment. Felix can almost hear him asking the Maker for patience. ”And your - mark?” he asks. ”As I understand it, everyone here considers it a blessing from Andraste herself!”

Felix rolls his eyes. ”We don’t know what it is.” More likely a curse, as far as Felix is concerned. It certainly does not feel like a _blessing._

His father looks sad. It’s annoying. ”Have some faith, Felix. Do you not think that it’s miraculous - that you were blessed with an ability that allows you to save the world? To reach into the Fade, and beyond? To me, it seems too otherworldly to be a mere quirk of fate.”

”If you say so.” Reflexively, Felix flexes the fingers of his left hand, and feels the Mark stretch with them. He still isn’t used to the sensation, even after all these months. His father apparently takes notice.

”Does it hurt?”

”No,” he lies.

They stare at each other from across the room. It’s hard to keep a level head with Rodrigue right in front of him.

A gust of wind rattles the windows. 

”Why did you come here?” Felix asks eventually. ”With no warning whatsoever? And why did you take _him_ with you?”

”Perhaps I know my son well enough to know that he’d forbid me from coming if I ever even alluded to such a possibility in a letter?”

”Hmph.”

”As for why I’m here, well - I simply wanted to see this place for myself, and to see how you were doing. You’re the talk of the entire Thedas, Felix, but you say hardly anything in the few letters you send home.” Rodrigue smiles tightly. ”Your Commander didn’t seem opposed to additional manpower, either, limited as it may be.”

”Fine. Why bring _him_ , then? You know he’s here for one reason only.”

”Felix…” Rodrigue sighs. Everything about him looks tired. ”Dimitri is… He was worried about you. He wished to come here, and I had no real reason to ask him not to.”

Unbelievable. ”You’re a fool if you believe that.”

Rodrigue lifts his hands. ”I know your stance on this, and I do not wish to argue with you.”

”Fine.” Felix spreads his arms. ”I’ll get back to work, then.”

”Not yet.”

Of course not. Felix raises his eyebrows expectantly.

”There was something else I needed to talk to you about, and since you seem determined to avoid speaking with me at all costs, I’d rather bring it up now than wait for a good opportunity that may never present itself.”

The expression on his father’s face makes Felix wary. It’s regretful but determined. ”What.”

”Firstly - all of us back home were of course shocked and saddened to hear of Sylvain’s passing.”

Felix’s eyes widen and he drops his gaze to the floor. His pulse picks up. He has a bad feeling of where this is going. Rodrigue, either oblivious or indifferent to Felix’s reaction, continues.

”I was, of course, especially saddened for your sake. I know what he meant to you, Felix.” He draws a deep breath. ”But I’m afraid I must bring this up, since your new title opens up a wealth of new possibilities and I’d rather you not waste them.”

”Don’t say it,” Felix warns. Rodrigue, unsurprisingly, does not listen.

”It is high time you got married,” he says, just as Felix feared he would.

”Old man…”

It’s useless, of course.

”No, Felix. You are a man nearing thirty. I have been… _understanding_ of your situation with regards to Sylvain for many years - far more so than lord Gautier ever was, I might add. But Sylvain is no longer with us, and you have a duty to your house - to your family. As the Inquisitor, I’m sure you’ll be able to secure a very desirable match -”

”Old man -”

”- a chance I feared you had lost, since too many people in our circle were already well aware of your… tastes.” Rodrigue clicks his tongue. ”Now, however, you have every chance to marry an honorable noblewoman.”

”I will not.”

”You will, Felix. It may be acceptable for a farmhand or a soldier to give in to such…. whimsy, as you did with Sylvain, but you are the only son of a noble house. Many before you have faced a similar situation, and they’ve gracefully accepted their duty.”

Felix glares at his father. ”So that’s why you’re really here.” He’s slowly growing so tense that he’s almost shaking.

”I am here to look after my son. It’s your future, Felix.”

”Indeed, which is why it’s not your decision.”

Rodrigue sighs mournfully, shaking his head. ”If your brother was still alive…”

_Andraste,_ could he not let it rest? ”Leave Glenn out of this.”

”He knew what duty meant - that it is an honorable burden to bear.”

Felix scoffs. ”You’re unbelievable.”

”Felix -”

”No. We’re done here.” Felix turns on his heels and walks out, escorted by his father’s deep sigh. He slams the door close slightly harder than strictly necessary, but oh, if it isn’t satisfying to allow himself that bit of immaturity.

It’s an old argument between them - one that Felix has gone through so many times that he’d begun to hope the message had finally been received - but once more Rodrigue had proven himself to be nothing if not persistently dedicated to making Felix’s life more difficult than it needed to be. It is also another sign to Felix that, no matter how often and how sincerely he may claim otherwise, his father does not understand him.

He’s fuming, still almost shaking from the held-back anger, and so he blindly makes for his quarters, choosing the most straightforward path, not paying any attention to his surroundings. That’s why Felix’s heart nearly stops when in the middle of the courtyard someone behind him suddenly grabs his arm.

With a harsh gasp, Felix spins around, already dropping to a fighting stance, only to come face to face with the one other man he really, really did not want to see tonight.

It doesn’t exactly make him relax his stance.

”What do you want?” he spits, trying to pull his arm back, but Dimitri doesn’t simply let go. He slides his hold down towards Felix’s wrist and deposits something in his hand. Felix steps back, yanking his arm away, and looks at what Dimitri just handed to him. 

On his palm there is a beautiful Lazurite ring with ornate carvings - a ring that Felix recognizes immediately. His blood turns to ice, and his gaze snaps back up to meet Dimitri’s.

”How did you get this?” Felix breathes, and hates how weak his voice sounds just then.

”From lady Gautier.”

”From - what?”

”Lady Gautier gave it to me,” Dimitri repeats, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. ”I went to see her and lord Gautier before our departure, and asked her if there was anything I could bring to Sylvain’s… final resting place.”

Felix’s mouth is numb when he speaks. ”There is no Haven anymore. The Temple is inaccessible.” Buried under ice and rock and other debris - and somewhere there, within the ruins, whatever remains of Sylvain’s body is, as well. He feels nauseated.

Dimitri shakes his head. ”No matter. In truth, I always intended to give it to you.”

The small ring is heavy in Felix’s hand, and he clutches it tightly. ”Why?”

”Why?” Dimitri’s smile is sad, but his eye is cold. ”I know how it feels, Felix. I knew you’d perhaps like to have something of his.”

”You know nothing,” Felix says, unsettled by the whole affair, taking another step back to put more distance between them. That Dimitri has the gall to invade this place and drag up things that Felix has finally, little by little started to let go of, so that they mostly turn up in his dreams and leave him be during the day - it makes him burn on the inside. 

Dimitri barks a disbelieving laugh, a harsh sound that echoes in the dark courtyard. 

”I lost Glenn, just as you lost Sylvain - how could I not know?”

Right. Felix scoffs. ”I don’t use dead people to fuel unjustified hatred and bigotry,” he says, voice shaking with anger.

”Unjustified?” Dimitri says incredulously. ”They killed him! Him, and my parents, and our men - and you call my anger unjust?”

Felix raises his own voice to match Dimitri’s volume. ”People kill other people every day, if you hadn’t noticed. Tough. Guess they were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

It may be childish of him to say something so plainly provocative, but Dimitri is going pale with rage, and that brings Felix a grim sense of satisfaction. _Good._ He looks as Dimitri's chest starts to heave with heavy breaths and his hands begin to shake.

”How can you say that!” he shouts, so furious that Felix feels like he should already be foaming at the mouth. ”What is the matter with you? Of all people, I thought you would understand!” 

”Well, you thought wrong!”

”What is the purpose of all this, then,” Dimitri asks, wildly waving his hands at everything around him, ”if not to get back at whoever is responsible for his death?”

It’s Felix’s turn to laugh incredulously. ”In case you weren’t aware, we’re trying to save the world here,” he spits, stepping closer to Dimitri. ”You’re an even bigger fool than I thought if you believe this is about my _precious_ feelings over everything else!”

From the corner of his eye, Felix notices two figures approaching them, but before he can react to them in any way, Dimitri is right in his face. ”You’re a cold-hearted hypocrite and liar,” he hisses, grabbing a hold of Felix’s jacket.

”And you’re a mindless animal,” Felix spits back.

It escalates in the blink of an eye.

Dimitri tightens his grip and pulls him closer, their height difference leaving him almost dangling in the air, and without any conscious thought Felix throws a left hook punch at his jaw. A painful twinge travels up his left arm, but thankfully his Mark doesn’t flare up. Dimitri lets go of him, which leaves Felix off-balance enough that when Dimitri’s retaliatory punch swings at his face, he fails to dodge it properly and it connects with his left cheek.

Stars explode behind his eyes and his vision threatens to go black. The sudden sting forces a surprised grunt out of him. 

Felix would have fallen on his back, had it not been for the sturdy figure that was suddenly there to catch him. He blinks to clear the stars dancing in his vision and realizes that the reason Dimitri isn’t on him, beating him to a pulp right then is that he’s being held back by Commander Cullen, who has him in an arm lock.

”ENOUGH!” 

It’s the loudest Felix has yet heard Cullen shouting, and they’ve been in battle together. Cullen tightens his hold when Dimitri tries to pull away, which results in Dimitri stopping his struggling with a pained hiss. ”What is going on here?” he demands. ”Inquisitor, are you alright?”

It takes Felix a few seconds to find his voice. ”I’m fine.” He knows that he sounds rough. It dawns on him that the one holding him upright is the Iron Bull. Felix tries his best to stand under his own power, but sways enough that he can’t object to Bull’s steadying hand on his back.

Cullen is frowning. ”Should I detain this man?” 

Felix starts to shake his head but it makes the ground tilt under him, so he aborts the movement. ”No. Just…” He takes a deep breath and considers the situation. Dimitri’s face is red from exertion and anger, but there’s a red spot of a different shade on his jaw. Good - his hook wasn’t for nothing, then. ”Just post a guard at his door for tonight. And keep him from the main hall - I don’t want him anywhere near me.”

Cullen nods. ”It will be done.”

Might as well address the other concerns, Felix decides. ”Don’t let him near any mages unsupervised, either,” he adds.

If Cullen thinks his order strange, he never lets it show. ”Understood.” At this point the altercation has gathered a small audience, most of whom are soldiers, so Cullen waves a couple of them to help. ”Come on then, lord Blaiddyd, if you would…” he says, letting Dimitri to a more upright position to allow him to walk more freely. ”Let’s not make this hard, shall we?” He looks around. ”Alright, the show’s over. Disperse!”

Suddenly, everybody seems to remember that they have better things to do.

Felix turns away from the audience and the retreating backs of Cullen and his men, Dimitri between them, and closes his eyes. Great - if this isn’t common knowledge by morning, Felix is a blind nug. His cheek and head are starting throb, and Bull can probably read the pain in his expression, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

”Your father’s coming this way,” Bull says urgently in a low voice, and Felix’s eyes snap open. He hopes that the look he gives Bull isn’t openly panicked.

”I do _not_ want to talk to him right now.”

”Hmm, I bet. I’ll take you to your room, then, boss.”

Somehow, Bull manages to maneuver them to the Inquisitor’s private quarters without anyone still up and about paying much attention to them. Felix pulls away from the support of Bull’s hand once they are in his room, where someone has blessedly already made a fire and lit some candles. He knows he’s shaking, and he knows that Bull knows that he’s shaking, but he’d like to pretend that that isn’t the case. 

His back turned to Bull, Felix looks down at the ring he’s been clutching so tightly that it has left a mark in his palm. Now he has a mark for each palm, he thinks distantly.

”You need Stitches to come take a look at you, boss? Or Dorian?” He’s smart enough to suggest the only two people Felix might let in the room just then, but Felix really can’t stomach the thought.

”No.”

He hears Bull taking a few steps closer. ”Yeah, see, I’ll believe that if you let me take a look,” he says, and Felix knows there’s no way Bull will let it go, so he drags his feet across the room and sits down on the bed.

”Do as you wish,” he mutters.

Bull crouches down in front of him and gently grips Felix’s chin to tilt his face to get better lighting. He tsk’s. ”You’re going to have a proper shiner, come morning, if no one heals this.”

”I don’t care.”

”Hmm. We can put some Elfroot salve on it, you oughta have some somewhere around here.”

”Whatever.”

It doesn’t take long for Bull to find a half-filled jar in one of the drawers of Felix’s chest. Sitting next to him, he applies it under Felix’s left eye with a careful touch that Felix has only relatively recently come to know from their nights spent together - it’s the same care and attention that Bull always gives him afterwards. His traitorous heart aches at the touch.

It’s not just his heart, though. Felix winces but manages to avoid flinching from the contact. ”Doesn’t pull his punches, that guy,” Bull remarks. ”You still feeling dizzy?”

Of course he’d noticed. Felix rolls his eyes. ”No, and you can stop mother henning me.”

”Uh huh.” He sounds thoroughly unimpressed. ”What about your hand?”

”What?” Confused, Felix looks down at his right hand. Yes, his hold of the ring has been white-knuckled, but that hardly requires healing.

”The one you used to punch him, big guy,” Bull says patiently.

Oh.

He flexes his left hand and hisses. Right.

”Thought so. Let me see.” 

He presses gently on Felix’s knuckles that have started to swell. Felix manages not to pull his hand away. ”Not broken,” he says, voice tense. Just sore as fuck.

”Yeah, probably not.” He moves on to examine Felix’s wrist, which is also a little swollen.

”Next time you punch him, do it more carefully,” Bull scolds him softly as he spreads the salve over the injuries. He avoids touching the Mark. Felix wonders if it’s because of Bull’s distrust towards everything Fade-related, or if he’s picked up on the discomfort that touching it brings Felix.

”I’ll do my best.” He sighs. ”It’s good enough already. You can stop.”

”Felix.”

Hearing his given name from the Iron Bull’s mouth is rare enough that it really makes Felix properly look at him. The expression Bull is wearing is gentle, patient. Concerned. 

Felix averts his eyes. He has to blink and swallow a few times but can’t shake the tightness of his throat. ”I did not want them here,” he forces out. The emotion makes him grit his teeth. ”My father has never understood that I’m not interested in fulfilling my ”duty” or being ”honorable” or any other such things he holds in high regard,” he explains, his words slow and careful. ”I don’t care. I do not care! He keeps throwing my brother at me every chance he gets. Glenn this, Glenn that, it's like he does not realize that dead people are _dead_!” Felix has to draw a keep breath. ”I always felt like he’d rather I had died,” he says, and can’t keep the bitterness from his voice. ”He’d still have his dutiful heir, and I wouldn’t have to listen to his constant nagging about how I do everything wrong!”

Bull’s only answer is a quiet hum in his throat and a thoughtful frown on his forehead.

”He came here intending to arrange my MARRIAGE!” Felix laughs, feeling a little hysterical. ”Can you fucking believe it? You know, since my degenerate lover is now dead. I can finally start producing grandchildren for him and continue the _glorious_ Fraldarius bloodline!”

Bull rumbles in agreement. ”Can’t blame you for being upset after a talk like that. Making the big exit and all.” 

”You saw me?”

He nods. ”I was having a talk of my own with Cullen. That’s how we got to you when we did, you know - it was pretty hard to miss that your little conversation down in the courtyard was turning pretty intense. Didn’t really catch what exactly happened there, though.”

Felix hears the question in those words loud and clear. He opens his hand to expose the ring again. It shimmers faintly. ”Sylvain’s,” he says, throat dry. He has to clear it.

”Yeah?”

His eyes sting, which he stubbornly ignores. ”He used to say that it was his lucky ring. Forgot to take it with him when we left for the Conclave.”

”Shit.”

Felix closes his hand again. ”I don’t understand what he wants," he says, thinking of Dimitri. "He thought…” He stands up and starts pacing back and forth. ”He… was there when my brother died - his parents died, as well. Dimitri was the only one who survived, and he became a different person as a result of that.” He swallows. ”He’s obsessed with finding and killing the apostates who he says were responsible, and he hates and fears magic almost more than the worst Templars we’ve seen. He’s… volatile.” Felix frowns. ”He thought that I’d feel the same way, now. That I’m doing all of this because of Sylvain.”

Felix shakes his head. ”He’s a damned fool. As is my father.” 

What he leaves unsaid is that he hopes he himself isn’t.

Bull regards him steadily. ”Is he a real threat to people here?”

It feels good to be taken seriously when it comes to Dimitri - it's so rare that it almost catches Felix off guard. He takes a deep breath.

”I can’t say. Maybe. He tries to seem civil to everyone around him, so he may be able to control himself, unless he actually comes across a mage who he thinks was involved. I doubt he will - we’re a long way from home, and it was years ago.”

Bull nods. ”Is he a threat to you?” 

At Felix’s incredulous look, he raises his hands. ”I know, you can handle yourself. I know that. But you gotta admit that tonight was out of character for you, big guy. I haven't seen you that openly angry before.” He holds Felix’s gaze. ”You scared of him?”

Felix sputters. ”Scared of him?”

Bull only raises one eyebrow. Felix huffs. ”I’m… I’ve been to battle with him. I’ve seen the way he relishes at killing people.” The memory makes Felix shudder. He looks Bull intently in the eye. ”I’ve seen your battle trance, and I’ve seen his,” he explains. ”They are not the same. There’s _nothing_ left of him when he’s like that. When he gets angry, he doesn’t just lose control, he _wants_ to rid himself of it. He knows it, and I know it. My old man refuses to see it, which is why he brought him along.”

”Hmm. He has a soft spot for the guy.”

Felix nods. ”Dimitri’s father was a close friend of his. If you ask me, he thinks it’s his duty to look after Dimitri. That, or he’s just happy to have a surrogate son to replace the one he lost.”

There's that bitterness again. Felix feels disgusted.

Bull hums. 

”I’m not scared of him,” Felix says, and it doesn’t quite sound like a lie. Bull doesn’t call him out on it, at least. 

”But you do think he’s dangerous.”

”Yes.” Of that, there’s no doubt. ”So far no one has wanted to believe that.”

”Well, I do,” Bull says, and Felix can tell that he’s serious. ”Cullen probably does, too, since he had to pull him off of you tonight. And I doubt Leliana or Josephine will disregard your concerns, either.”

Felix as to swallow and look away. He nods.

”Is your father going to cause problems?” Bull asks.

”Only to me,” Felix sighs. ”He’ll try and go to Josephine about the… marriage business. I’ll need to warn her.” 

”Won’t give up hope, will he?”

Felix shakes his head. ”Back home, everybody knew that I was… not particularly interested in women. I tried to hide it, but the older I got, the clearer it became to most people that whoever married me would be set up for an unhappy union from the start.” He grimaces. Bull looks sympathetic. ”Now that I’m the Inquisitor, father believes that it’s possible to find someone who doesn’t know or doesn’t care, since I’m suddenly much more important and appealing than before.”

”Did people know about you and Sylvain?”

”Some. My father and brother. Dimitri. Few others.” He tries to think back. ”Many of the servants must have known, and there were rumors among the nobles.”

”Your father allowed it?”

Felix gives a half-hearted, unamused smirk. ”He likes to think that. He just could not stop us.”

Bull huffs. ”And Sylvain’s family?”

”Lord Gautier didn’t want to know. He was much worse than my old man. Sylvain’s brother is not dead, but he might as well be. A mage.” Felix clicks his tongue. ”So Sylvain knew from a pretty young age that he’d be forced to carry on the family line, since lord Gautier does not take no for an answer, especially not from his son. Syl was delaying the inevitable, playing up the philandering.”

”Couldn’t blame him for not being interested in women, huh?”

”Truly.” Felix sighs bitterly. ”He was going to be engaged to a nice young lady after the Conclave.”

”Yeah?”

He looks away. ”We knew our time was up. So, since my father wanted me to attend and observe the Conclave,” and the words are ashen in his mouth, ”I asked Sylvain to come with me.”

_He kisses Felix, his mouth warm, sweet. ”Of course I’ll come.” He sounds relieved. Their noses bump against each other softly. Sylvain’s hair tickles Felix’s upturned face._

_”And your old man?”_

_Sylvain huffs a soundless, hot laugh. ”He’ll let me come. I’ll promise him to be a good boy afterwards, and he can’t not let me come. And it’s important enough that mother will support me.” He boops the tip of Felix’s nose with his finger. Felix’s nose wrinkles, and he pushes Sylvain’s hand away._

_”Good,” is all Felix says, and he can’t contain the small smile that curls up one side of his mouth._

_Sylvain’s eyes are warm and happy. This close, Felix could count the freckles on his face. (He has tried, but that’s too sappy to be said out loud.)_

_They have a little more time._

”I’m done talking about this for tonight,” Felix announces, his voice tight.

He does not push the Iron Bull away when he gets up and slowly pulls Felix to his chest. He stands still in the embrace, forehead pressed against Bull’s skin, and refuses to shed the tears that threaten to spill over. He’s thankful for the chance to hide his face, nonetheless, and if the proximity eases his shaking, that doesn’t need to be pointed out either. Bull loosens Felix’s ponytail and massages his scalp with his fingertips. For once Felix allows himself to soak up the comfort.

Slowly the tension that has ramped up over the course of the day and their conversation drains from his muscles.

”That’s better,” Bull rumbles, so low that Felix both hears it and feels it in his body. ”Good boy.”

Felix shivers, and this time it’s not from anger or tense muscles. Bull hums approvingly and mumbles something in Qunlat. He presses a light kiss on the top of Felix's head.

They just stand there for a long while. 

Bull is the one who eventually breaks the comfortable silence. His fingers never stop moving against the base of Felix’s skull, and he keeps his tone light.

”You gonna keep the ring?”

A good question. Felix twists it between his fingers. The metal has soaked up his body heat and feels almost soft in his hand. He wants to look at it, but that would require moving his head, and that's something he very much does not want to do.

”Should I?” he wonders. It’s his first instinct - throwing or stashing the ring away feels wrong - but it’s almost like the way he acquired the the ring has somehow tainted it. Whatever Dimitri intended for him to do with it, Felix does not want to do. He also does not want to lose it, he thinks, remembering Haven again.

Bull’s pectorals move as he shrugs. ”In the Qun, if two people are very close - say, true brothers in arms, or what you Southerners would consider something like lovers - they sometimes choose to split a dragon’s tooth so that both of them can wear one half around their neck. To always keep the other close to the heart.”

The tone of Bull’s voice is hard to read. There’s something there that Felix can’t put his finger on. 

”If one of them dies, the other won’t just stop wearing their half of the tooth. If you wanted to, you could think of it like that.”

Weighing the ring in his hand, Felix considers this. To keep the other one close to the heart? ”I suppose Dagna could put it on a chain,” he says slowly. The idea warms something deep inside him.

”I bet she would, if you asked her.”

Felix detaches himself from Bull’s embrace and takes another look at the ring before putting it in the drawer of his bedside table. 

He’ll think about it.

”You gonna be okay, big guy?”

is halfway out of Felix’s mouth when he stops himself. The day has been draining, and the way things have gone, he’s sure to be having less than pleasant dreams tonight. Maybe it’s a desire to annoy his father as much as humanly possible, but right now the idea of someone finding out about his and Bull’s _thing_ doesn’t worry Felix in the slightest. It’s a dangerous feeling, he knows, after such a short time, but he’s too tired to care. Thus, what ends up coming out of his mouth is -

”Would you… stay here? For tonight.”

He doesn’t turn around to look at Bull, fixing his gaze on the bed instead. There’s a minute pause before Bull asks: ”You’re sure?”

”I am.”

”In that case, of course I’ll stay.”

Felix tries to not let his relief show, but he has a feeling that Bull knows anyway.

It doesn’t bother him as much as it used to.


End file.
